On fast cars, keeping notes and hoarding

“How do you let someone know that you want to race?” my daughter, only 8 years old at the time, asked from the back seat.

“The customary way,” I replied, “is to make eye contact with the driver next to you and rev the engine.”

“Can we do that?” the little voice behind me said.

Unfortunately, the driver stopped at the red light next to us was a sheriff’s deputy in his patrol car, so we did not race that day.

This interaction occurred two years ago, on Aug. 8, 2024 to be precise. I know that because I wrote it down and I came across the note recently. It pays to write things down. Somewhere in a vast, and steadily growing, archive of notes, drawings and scribbles is a contract I had drawn up that said my little girl could not get married until she was 40 years old. I signed it, she signed in (in kindergarten penmanship) and I may have gone as far as getting it notarized.                 

My wife scolded me and reminded me how old, or young rather, I was when we tied the knot. I kept the paper anyway; it will make a fun wedding present, hopefully 30 years from now.

But back to cars. I’ve always been very utilitarian when it comes to vehicles, and had I tried to start a drag race I would have not only gone to jail but also lost the race. I’ve ever been impressed much by fast cars or felt the need for speed. That could change if I ever find myself behind the wheel of a car designed for something besides hauling kids and groceries around.

I am long past due for a car upgrade, but, like drawings by kids, I can’t seem to part ways with my 15-year-old SUV. It’s almost old enough to get its own driver’s license. Call me a sentimental person with slight hoarding tendencies. 

The first internal combustion engine automobile land-speed record was set back in 1902. The vehicle and its death-defying driver astounded the world by going a whopping 76 mph. Can you imagine living in a world where the speed record is now common interstate cruising speed? What an age to be alive. The current land speed record stands at roughly 763 mph and was set in 1997 by driver Andy Green. Green strapped himself into a seat attached to two jet engines and tore through the Nevada desert.

My car starts shaking a little at 70 mph, so I reckon I won’t be challenging the record, current or past. And I should probably be more worried about keeping my daughter from behind the wheel of a fast car and not so much about how old she is when she gets married.  Sixteen years old is right around the corner.

If she plays her cards right, she could inherit my car. Maybe by then I’ll have a vehicle built for speed. And I am going to challenge her to a race.